


Had It Coming

by venDi



Series: 2/5/4 [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Begging, Blood, Blood and Injury, Bottom Number Five | The Boy, Clothed Sex, Coming Fast, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dom/sub Undertones, Fear, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, No Lube, Over stimulation, Pseudo-Incest, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Size Difference, Size Kink, Top Diego Hargreeves, Underage Sex, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Violence, Vomiting, Voyeurism, Wounds, over sensitivity, pseudo-underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25921570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venDi/pseuds/venDi
Summary: “Diego, Diego,” Five tries, his words coming out fast and breathy, swallowing hard, his mouth too dry.“Come on, don’t do this. What if someone walks by? Sees you?”
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Diego Hargreeves
Series: 2/5/4 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883281
Comments: 17
Kudos: 213





	Had It Coming

Five makes a soft, pained noise as Diego throws him against the hard edges of the brick wall; he tries to soften the blow with his arms, managing to raise them in time to keep his face from hitting nose first.

  
  


The bricks are damp with fresh rain, a deep red color, his fingers scraping against the uneven surface as he curls his hands into fists. 

  
  


“What the _fuck,”_ Five turns to look back at Diego -- or, he tries to. 

  
  


He gets about half-turned before Diego’s hand covers the entirety of his face, shoving his head flat against the wall in front of him. 

  
  


The expanse of Diego’s palm blocks any peripheral vision, and Five grunts, writhing beneath his brother’s hold, trying to pull out from under it.

  
  


“Diego, what do you think you’re doing?!” Growling, Five pushes as hard as he can against the wall, but Diego only shoves him back down. “Are you trying to start a fucking fight you overgrown--”

  
  


“Shut  _ up,” _ Diego barks, punctuating his words by shoving Five harder into the wall; the brick scrapes across his cheek painfully and he winces, stilling. 

  
  


Diego presses up against his body, forcing him bodily into the wall, into an uncomfortable hold. 

  
  


He’s unable to move, flat against the wall, and something about it feels off. Something about the tone to Diego’s voice, the inflection and the bruising hold against his head had Five sweating, swallowing nervously.

  
  


And then there’s the sound of a belt buckle being unlatched, and it sends a sharp spike of cold terror down his spine. 

  
  


Five still can’t see, but he’s been around enough to understand what’s happening. He swallows hard, licking his lips, trying to think of something to say, to offer to de-escalate the situation. 

  
  


“Diego--” 

  
  


“What did I just fucking say, Five?” Another rough shove has Five whimpering, stabbing pain in his face tell-tale of the skin being rubbed off.

“You and your big mouth almost got us killed, the least you can do is shut up now.” 

  
  


Diego hisses, and the blunt push of his cock presses against Five’s back, urgent in the way he bucks against him.

  
  


It thankfully doesn’t touch his skin -- Five’s suit jacket covering his body, the layers a barrier between the two of them.

  
  


“But I got us out of there, too,” Five reminds him, voice teetering on too-high; he’d said too much, been too over-confident, and had set the commission’s people off.

  
  


Diego had been shot -- nothing serious, really, just a graze -- and Five had been nearly gutted. Jumping them both out of there had been the clear solution to the situation, had been the easy answer; and it’s the answer now. 

  
  


Five tenses, bringing his fists together. He needs to get out of this hold, needs to put some distance between him and Diego. Let them both have a moment to think, get enough room that Five can defend himself.

Like this, he can do nothing but fold under Diego’s urges. His brows furrowing on concentration as he tugs, desperate, on his powers to get him out of there -- he nearly gets there, too, until he feels Diego’s fingers tighten in his hair and --

  
  


Ringing in his ears, sharp and painful; Five’s head collides with the wall as Diego pulls him back and slams him into it, controlled enough to keep Five conscious -- but just barely. 

His gut churns as his vision blurs, swirling, and tears sting Five’s eyes. He lets out a broken, pained cry, tasting the familiar tang of copper-blood in his mouth.

  
  


Diego leans close, his lips just brushing near the back of Five’s head, his breath hot and humid along his neck. “Use your powers again, and I’ll actually kill you.” 

  
  


Five goes still, squeezing his eyes shut to drown out the overload of input, takes in breath after breath, tampering down the nausea that still rolls in his gut. 

He doesn’t say anything in response to Diego -- can’t think of anything to say, can’t get himself to try in fear of throwing up. His tongue stings, and he suspects he’s bitten it. 

  
  


Diego, though, doesn’t seem to like that -- Five not responding to him -- and he digs his nails into Five’s scalp, blood drawing in pin-pricks as he claws at him. “Got it?” 

  
  


This time Five nods; if he used his abilities, he could get out of Diego’s hold, go somewhere down the road, somewhere else, away. 

But Diego will feel him tense, will feel Five gearing up to use it, and Diego has always been fast. 

  
  


Always been too-good at combat, compensating for his powers being more passive than active, like Five’s or Allison’s. 

  
  


There’s no way Five can jump away from him in time, and where he is, now, pressed against the wall with the entirety of Diego holding him in place, there’s no way he’s going to be able to slip out of his hold or brute force it. 

  
  


Unkind fingers move to the front of Five’s shorts, tugging the button and zipper open hastily, nearly ripping the button from it’s threads. His breaths sticks in his throat, choking him, as he tries to look down at what Diego is doing. 

He can’t see past his own cheeks, past the hard line of the bricks before him; behind him he sees nothing more than the hand pressed against his face. Five’s essentially blinded. 

  
  


Diego’s hand hooks in his waistline, slipping into the tight strip of elastic that holds his boxers in place. He pushes down, urging Five’s clothes down and off, but they get stuck at his hips, only the top of his ass becoming exposed. 

  
  


The night air is damp, and cool, and Five can’t stop the shiver that it draws out of him. The motion reminds him of Diego’s cock, pressed against his lower back, rubbing up against the fabric of his jacket. 

  
  


Five needs to stop this before Diego goes too far; right now, Five can let it go, can chock it up to adrenaline and anger and the undeniable fact that, ever since Five has been trapped in this body, people have been more inclined to flirt with him.

It’s understandable -- Diego probably hasn’t gotten laid in years, with his stuffy attitude, he’s pent up. Frustrated. 

  
  


But if he pulls Five’s shorts down any farther, he won't be able to forget the feeling of Diego’s hard cock, slick with pre-come, slipping between his cheeks. 

  
  


“Diego, Diego,” Five tries, his words coming out fast and breathy, swallowing hard, his mouth too dry. “Come on, don’t do this. What if someone walks by? Sees you?”

  
  


Diego grunts, and pulls Five’s shorts down a little farther. 

  
  


Fuck.

  
  


_ Shit. _

  
  
  


“Come on,” Five laughs, soft and awkward, his voice cracking halfway through. “We’re brothers, Diego.”

  
  


“Adopted,” Comes the dry reply; Diego’s nails scrape against his skin as he wiggles them, trying to pull Five’s shorts down farther, unwilling to let his face go to do it easier. “If Luther and Allison get to have fun, then so do I.”

  
  


Five’s breath is heavy and frantic, panting as fear, heavy and hot, pools low in his stomach. It would just take one more pull, one more good yank for his shorts to come off, slipping over the hump of his ass and down past his knees, to the wet concrete below them. 

  
  


“You’re the hero,” Five supplies, trying a different approach. “You protect people, you save them, Diego. This isn’t -- what do you think this looks like? This isn’t heroic.” 

  
  


“Everyone’s always told me to quit acting like that,” Diego hums, thoughtfully, and -- finally, his shorts pull loose, and Diego makes a little  _ ‘aha’ _ noise as he releases them. 

  
  


As Five feared, they pool at his ankles, and he yelps, instinctively jerking forwards to try and hide himself, to get away, he needs to get away. 

  
  


“This -- this is wrong, Diego.” Five tries, flattening himself against the wall as best he can, getting those few extra inches of space. “It’s wrong and you know it, so stop, just stop it--” 

  
  


The sound of flesh slapping flesh echoes throughout the alley, Diego’s hand coming down hard on the soft curve of Five’s ass, making him gasp and twitch, with nowhere left to pull away to. 

  
  


“God, you’re such a fucking brat, no wonder dad didn’t bat an eye when you left,” Diego chides --  _ what? Dad hadn’t cared?? What does he mean?  _ \-- and his fingers dig into the flesh of Five’s ass, pulling his cheeks apart. 

  
  


The emotional whiplash, Diego bringing up dad, it all stalls Five’s mind. He can do nothing but gape like a fish as he feels Diego’s cock slip, wet and slimy, across his ass, catching on his hole as it goes. 

Diego bucks against him, the pressure pushing against his hole, and Five’s eyes snap open, wide and panicked. 

  
  


“Diego,  _ no--” _

  
  


Diego’s cock breaches him on the last syllable of the word, pushing in unrelenting and hard, unaided by spit or lube or even blood.

It slips in fully in the span of a second -- Diego using his full strength to get himself fully sheathed. There’s a loud popping noise it makes as he slips inside fully, Diego’s balls hitting the back of Five’s thigh.

  
  


Five screams, the volume of it tearing his vocal chords, leaving his throat rough and hoarse. Everything is burned from his mind; the searing drag whipping away any coherent thought, all encompassing in a way he hasn’t felt since he’d been alone in the future. 

  
  


Wrongness, pain, he’s being killed, split open from the inside and ripped apart. His stomach feels too full, something hot and thick pushing against his skin from the inside, trying to crawl out. 

Five gags, dry heaves against the wall, spit trickling out over his lips and dampening the wall farther. His too-small hands claw at the bricks as he scrambles, tries to get away, tries to get Diego out of him. 

  
  


But there’s nowhere to go, just the wall and Diego, nothing between or anywhere else, and he can do nothing but stand there as Diego thrusts into him with a self-satisfied moan. 

The first few thrusts bring a new wave of agonizing pain that Five can’t stop, no matter how hard he begs or screams, and tears flow down his face steadily. 

  
  


The movement of Diego rocking into him makes his entire body shake, jolt, moves him against the wall, his cheek scraping and smearing the now steady stream of blood from his wounds against the brick wall. 

  
  


_ “Ow,” _ Five sobs, hiccuping, his breaths coming in short little bursts; logically, he knows he’s nearing hyperventilation. He can do nothing to try and steady himself though, his throat tight and spasming with each sob. “Sto-  _ stop _ Diego, please  _ stop _ , it  _ hurts.” _

  
  


“Good,” Diego growls, and the hand against Five’s face finally moves, shifting up to fully grip his hair. 

He drags Five’s head back at a sharp angle, forcing him to gaze up at the stars above them. 

  
  


At least he’s seeing something other than the wall.

  
  


Five’s hands reach as he winces, a soft noise leaving his throat, tries to grab Diego’s hand to drag his hold out of Five’s hair. 

Diego just pulls his head back farther, claws his nails in deeper; Diego’s other hand tightens around the boney jut of his hip, pads of his fingers pressing hard enough to bruise. 

  
  


“Maybe this time you’ll learn not to put other people in danger. Learn from the consequences of your actions.”

  
  


“I didn’t--” Five gasps, trying hard to swallow down the second wave of nausea that’s rising to his throat, the pain blinding, making his mind blank. 

Hard to think, hard to defend himself.

“--I didn’t do this! This isn’t punish-punishment, this is you!”

  
  


“No,” Diego hisses, and he shoves Five’s head back against the wall again, dragging his face across the rough surface like he’s shoving a dog's nose in something. 

Five shouts, finally able to grip Diego’s wrist -- he futilely pulls his hand, trying to get him to let go. 

“This is your fault. You made me do this, Five, so you don’t have anyone to blame but yourself.”

  
  


New cuts and wounds form on his face, blood dampening his forehead, his cheek, thin streaks of it slipping down his brows and into his eyes; his vision blurs, but from the blood, sweat, or from the pain, Five isn’t sure which. 

  
  


Diego fucks up into him ruthlessly, unfaltering, his cock slamming against Five’s prostate with each forward thrust. The juxtaposition between the blinding agony and the mouth watering pleasure leaves Five’s dizzy, his knees trembling as he tries to separate them. 

But they go hand in hand; each movement bringing just as much pain as pleasure, until Five is wincing and blushing, begging for it to end and to have more. 

  
  


It’s humiliating.

  
  


Diego holds his hips with both hands, letting his hair go finally, shaking off Five’s hold on him like it was nothing. Five slumps against the wall, his entire upper body being held up by only that. 

Somehow, Diego gets faster, harder, thrusting into him with enough force that Five’s legs come up off the ground. He only doesn’t fall by the grip Diego has on his waist, the force bruising and unkind, just like everything else. 

  
  


“You’re fucking pathetic,” Diego moans, the obscene slap-slap-slap of skin meeting skin deafening to Five’s ears. “Can’t even fight back like this. Fucked up so bad you’re trapped in a thirteen year olds body.”

  
  


_ “Please.” _ Five begs, hiccuping, unable to lift himself up to look at Diego; too weak to use his hands to push himself up off the bricks. 

He can feel the skin inside him tear, the blood aiding Diego’s thrusts; he’s grateful for the first time in his life that he’s bleeding.

  
  


Diego laughs, clawing along Five’s hips leaving red, swollen streaks in his wake. “Unless you did it intentionally.”

  
  


Slowing in his thrusts for the first time since he started, Diego leans in close, resting his chin on Five’s shoulder. Five strains his eyes too look at him, vision blurry, watching the way a smile spreads over Diego’s lips. 

His brows raise, his expression almost soft; Five can’t bring the Diego he sees now -- the Diego who protects -- with the one inside him, merciless. 

  
  


“Tell me, Five, do you like this? Like being this small?” 

  
  


“What?!” Five squeaks, his shoes scraping against the ground, rocks grinding beneath his feet as Diego bends nearly in half to cover him.  _ “Why _ would I--”

  
  


A hand wraps around Five’s cock and he chokes on his words, eyes rolling up into the back of his head at the sudden, blissful heat of Diego’s fist wrapping around him. 

He’s so small his cock, surly pink and wet, fits solely in the palm of Diego’s hand. He can’t help the straining moan that crawls up out of his throat, instinctively pressing forwards into Diego’s hand.

  
  


“You’re hard.” Diego tells him, and Five freezes, something heavy dropping into his stomach.

  
  


_ What??  _

  
  


_ He’s not-- _

  
  


Diego pumps his fist, gentle, unlike everything else, and Five whimpers, his mouth falling open on the sound. 

He feels a heavy glob of come squeeze out of him, pooling at the head of his cock before Diego swipes it away with his thumb. 

  
  


He’s hard.

  
  


_ Fuck.  _

  
  


“If I had known you liked this,” Diego laughs, high and jovial, and all too calm for this situation. “Then I would have done something else to you, you sick fuck. This isn’t punishment if you enjoy yourself.” 

  
  


Heat burns across Five’s face, shame and regret making him tremble. “I’m not.” He refutes uselessly, reaching down, trying to pull Diego’s hand off of him. 

  
  


Diego just laughs again and strokes over him, “Sure you don’t, Five.”

  
  


Five chokes and trembles, his knees knocking together. Each pull of Diego’s hand has Five squirming; the heavy weight that rests, now unmoving, inside Five, feels right for the first time. 

It makes him feel full, the heat and shape of it fitting perfectly inside his small, undeveloped body. It’s the perfect shape, making his stomach bulge where it rests inside him. 

Five’s unable to stop himself as he rocks, so minutely it barely even happens, against Diego’s cock. 

  
  


It slips deeper into Five, bumping against his prostate; the hand around him tightens, pulls over the skin. Diego sucks in a breath -- he notices what Five had done, and he bucks forwards. 

Gentle this time, but fully, slipping deep into Five once more. His fingers squeeze around Five’s cock and pull, wringing him out like a cloth.

  
  


Five wails, his toes curling, head falling back as he’s unable to stop himself as he comes. Hot ropes shoot out over Diego’s hand, his eyes curling up into the back of his head as he trembles. 

  
  


_ “Gh, gh, gh,” _ Five shakes so hard he thinks he’s going to fall over, gripping desperately to any part of Diego he can reach. 

One hand grabs a wrist, the other fists in the fabric of Diego’s stupid black shirt, dragging him closer, seeking for something. Some comfort, something to help him through the blinding-white pleasure. 

  
  


It’s a pity he’s seeking it from the person causing him all this pain, though.

  
  


Diego holds him through it, stroking him up to the point that Five stops writing and moaning, letting his cock slip from his hands just as it becomes too sensitive. 

How he knows when to do it, Five isn’t sure -- he’s probably had more practice, is more experienced. Knows what he’s doing. Five pants, his eyes slipping closed for a moment to let himself breathe. To collect himself.

  
  


A laugh behind him is what pulls him from his revere, drawing him back into the reality of the situation; he’s just come. From his brother raping him. 

  
  


Five’s face burns and nausea once again rises in his stomach.

  
  


“Did you get what you wanted?” Five swallows, bites out accusingly. 

He’s trying to sound some bit intimidating, threatening, anything other than pathetic. His voice cracking probably backfires on him, though.

  
  


Diego thrusts into him casually, humming, and Five gasps. “Why do you say that? I haven’t even come yet.”

  
  


Fingers tighten once more against Five’s hips and he pales, his eyes opening wide. 

  
  


“Diego, you  _ can’t--” _

  
  


Diego does; he thrusts into him hard, and bruising, picking up his pace from before without a second of rebound time. 

It’s too much, too fast, Five’s body high-strung and over-sensitive from having just come, and he can’t stop as a new wave of tears pool and fall from his eyes. 

  
  


Five claws at Diego’s hands, trying to hurt, tear him off, but he pays no mind; Diego is chasing his own pleasure now, using Five however he sees fit. 

Five might as well be a fleshlight for all the care Diego is using on him.

  
  


It takes far too long and too little time for Diego to get close; Five can tell when it happens by the way he starts getting loud, his thrusts faltering from their rhythm, getting jerky. It’s almost over, almost done. 

  
  


Stealing himself, Five thrusts back against Diego -- the faster he can get this over with, the faster he can be left alone. 

It seems to do the trick, as Diego moans, loud and obscene, and Five feels his cock spasm inside him.

  
  


Thick globs of come gush from his cock, filling Five, and he squeaks at the strange, sticky feeling of it. 

He pushes on the ground beneath him, trying to get away again; but, again, there’s nowhere for him to go, and he’s left shaking as Diego comes inside him. 

  
  


Finally when it stops, Diego sighs and his hold drops from Five’s hips. He slips out of him, dragging across the wounds and ripped skin inside, Five wincing and hissing at the feeling of it. 

As soon as Diego pulls fully away from him, Five drops; falling to his knees, his forehead resting against the cool brick wall in front of him as he tries to catch his breath. 

  
  


There’s a sound of fabric tearing, drawing Five’s gaze up to the side, tilting his head. Diego has ripped off a fraction of his sleeve and is whipping his cock off with it, before he tucks himself back into his disgustingly tight leather pants, fastening his belt. 

He seems to notice Five staring at him, and Diego smiles.

  
  


Tossing the torn fabric to Five, Diego snorts. “Clean yourself up. We need to get back and tell the others what happened.”

  
  


Diego doesn’t wait for a response, just turns and heads out of the alley; Five doesn’t know if he means to tell them about their fight with commission people, or this, what Diego has done to him.

  
  


He doesn’t know if he can bear to tell them this. 

  
  


He reaches out and grabs the cloth, his fingers curling around it as he pulls it back to himself, sniffing; Five wipes the back of his hand over his nose, pressing the pad of his palm into his eye to try and dry it as he pulls the cloth down to his own spent cock.

  
  


The sound of ignorant cars passing by on the road is a fitting backdrop as he sobs.


End file.
